


Never Leave The Past Behind

by Phrenotobe



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthurian Lit nerds are either going to be happy or very upset with me and I can't yet tell which, Dreadlords - Freeform, F/F, Parasites, Rating May Change, Zombie Apocalypse, don't mind the new guy he won't be around forever, the violence isn't in this yet but I like to warn ahead of time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-07-12 14:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15996902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phrenotobe/pseuds/Phrenotobe
Summary: The importance of preserving history lest you make mistakes again, and also that the past isn't always that far off; and sometimes you walk right into an old flame at a 7-11 checkout with donuts, scotch tape and a dog collar when you don't own a dog, and also there are zombies.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cowboy_Sneep_Dip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip/gifts).



> This will either be wonderful or an absolute mess because I haven't written a modern setting since 2016. We'll find out together.

Dog walking. Fast food fliers. Half of a vet’s assistant flier with the contact details ripped off. And in the lowest right-hand corner of the campus advertising board, a business card asking for an assistant with one corner folded down. It was difficult to work out when it had been placed there. A flyer about a fresher week party overlapped it, but despite the damage it seemed new. It was hard to say. Rain hadn’t come down in weeks, and the sun had faded many of the notices to a pale shade of what they once were. 

Severa checked the notice board again and sighed. It was the start of a new semester and now life was stretching out into an ocean of boredom before the first chunk of homework hit. There were jobs that offered babysitting, other pinned pamphlets and handwritten requests that wanted responsible day camp counsellors. Too much effort, but she considered it for all of a second before the phantom sound of a baby wailing rang in her ears. She dismissed the idea, but she still needed a job. Her mom said so, in that soft voice that sounded sweet and irritating, like a honey stain on a new shirt. 

“Data Entry!” the small card in the corner said brightly in the first row. “Personal assistant needed!” was the second line. “Bravery and good sense of humour preferred!” it finished. And then a phone number, an e-mail address, and two more short numbers, neither of which seemed connected to anything. Severa looked around and pulled up the thumbtack with the tip of her nail. Whatever kind of whack job had pinned that card up there, she didn't think she'd have to compete for it, but it didn't hurt to have the details on hand. 

She went to class, which was cut short. The room had been moved because of a big display of ugly-looking masks that had been set out in the usual hall, and more than half of her classmates couldn’t find it. The masks stood on stands facing outward toward the door. Severa took a picture in case Cynthia wanted to see them, and then took the worksheet from the desk. To Severa, the masks meant just one thing - Ancient Valentia had bad taste. Who wanted to look like they melted, anyway? She signed the register at the front, and wondered what to do with a schedule that was now unexpectedly free.

The day was warm as it had been all week, and her dorm was just another walk through the park where the absurdly large statue of Naga dominated the area. It was such an offputtingly big display of some kind of modernism that most people ignored it, and Severa was one of them. There was enough shade to make it worth it, and the solid shape of the statue cast a long shadow. It was little more than a shapeless trunk with two angular wings near the top, curling over as if naga was overlooking the entire park.

Severa decided to do something she’d been putting off. She found a place to sit under the trees and called home, allowing a generous half-hour for it to finish. It was comforting to complain about the usual garbage, and she found afterwards that it never was as bad as she feared. The afternoon had turned into early evening, and she set off for her dorm. 

In the alcove next to the keycard authenticator a homeless person in a hoodie was waiting, silently, wavering slightly on their feet. A bottle was in their hand, and a long, greyish beard lay over their chest. It was difficult to see their face in the shade.  
“Here,” Severa snapped, giving them a handful of change from her pocket before she tapped her card on the reader and pushed through the gate, “Now get lost. If you hang around here you’ll scare someone.” 

\--

The business card from the noticeboard stayed in Severa’s bag along with her keycard, and she forgot about it for a day and a half. It spilled out onto the table during lunch when she was hunting for her purse. Kjelle eyed it for a short second and then snatched it.  
“Hey!” Severa said reflexively.

“Uh-huh,” Kjelle said, “Why do you have a business card with numbers on it? Playing an ARG? There’s a lot of weird on campus these days. I hear somebody got glassed near your dorm.”  
“I don’t know what an Ay-Ar-Gee is,” Severa drawled, “But if this person wants me to dress up in a costume and run around in the woods like your geeky friends, they are shit out of luck.”  
Kjelle snorted, flipping the card over to look at the back.  
“You do too know what an ARG is. Do you remember when Owain sent us to a bunch of cryptic websites and tried to convince us all that we were sent back in time-”  
“Shit out of luck, Kjelle.”  
Severa elbowed her plate out of the way to drop her notebook on the table.  
“I’m probably not going to try it. What kind of weirdo puts that on a noticeboard in the middle of nowhere?”  
Kjelle tilted her cup to see how much coffee was left inside it, and gave Severa a wonky grin. Half of her mouth on one side twisted up, the other half fighting the good fight to stay level.  
“Yeah, the middle of campus, right in the bermuda triangle-”  
“Smartass.”  
“They’re your friends too, Severa,” Kjelle said.  
“Ugh,” Severa said decisively.  
“Yeah yeah. Anyway,” Kjelle tapped Severa’s nose with the card before dropping it back on the table, “Just try it. Google maps or whatever.”  
Severa flipped to the centre page of her notebook and stuck the card there, closing it and putting her textbook over the top.  
“Listen, I just want to get a job so my mom is off my back. Like I don’t have enough problems.”  
Kjelle opened her wallet and peeled a few dollar notes out to drop on the table.  
“Student jobs never pay. But today I’ll take it easy on you.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Severa got home after lunch she put her textbook on the table, her notepad on top, and her half-finished to-go coffee on top of that. later that night she bumped the table and spilt the coffee. Not a second later, she cursed. Despite the mumble of digital radio she’d come home to, Kjelle wasn’t present, so she still had time to clean. A podcast was on in her roomie’s area, talking about priceless eleventh century masks from Valentia being held on display for a limited time in the university history department. Severa was kind of interested, but not much - it was Cynthia with the art credits, and she was far more interested in performance art and kinetic sculpture. 

Severa started to work, got bored, fiddled around, finished off an essay that had been lingering, and then tidied some more to bide her time. The en-suite wasn’t too bad off, but she stacked her hair products and shuffled Kjelle’s shower gel and basic toiletries into a basket of their own. Too much cohabitation and shared products and they’d start nesting together like some kind of sloppy couple. 

She and Kjelle had started sharing a room a few weeks after Severa had begun her courses. Her single room was... well, okay, but living somewhere so quiet made her nerves turn in on themselves. Past that, it wasn’t like Kjelle to be late home. She had class, sure, and sometimes swung by the gym after that - but it wasn’t usually so long before she got back. And it wasn’t a LARP day. Her armor (steel, plate, dorky as hell) was still in her closet when Severa looked.

Severa sent a waspish text to Kjelle, not expecting a reply but hoping she would. She checked the schedule pinned up on the back of the door hoping it was something she had forgotten, but there wasn't even a long class to explain it. Time expanded and unfurled, lingering in the gap between every second. It had been three minutes since she last checked her phone. 

Severa walked an anxious circle around the centre of her dorm room and then pulled up the blind to look outside. There wasn't anybody on the paths that ran past her window, and the sky was an eerie sunset red that bled over the roofs and dappled through the trees. This managed to be worse, because people navigated through the dorm area all the time, even in the evening.

It seemed like the campus was deserted. Kjelle’s podcast, which was just coming into the end sequence, went quiet as the stream buffered. Lightning flickered at the window, and a second later thunder rumbled outside in the darkness.  
“Next time!” the podcast peeped, and went silent. Severa swore furiously in a whisper.   
She hated evening the most. It felt like anything could happen.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey Sev!” Kjelle called, “open the door, will you? I can’t reach my keycard.” 

Severa mumbled a cuss to make herself feel better. No she hadn’t been upset, or scared, or unfortunate and leaning on a pile of Kjelle’s clothes. She untangled herself and opened the door.   
Kjelle was out in the hallway, a double armful of takeout boxes and a bag of prawn crackers held by the pinch of her littlest and ring fingers. 

“Hey kid. I had a long day, and you’ve been weird all week, so i figured - chinese food?”   
“Ugh,” Severa said, gratefully taking them, “Why didn’t you call ahead, idiot?”  
Kjelle shrugs, busy setting aside papers, books, hand-outs and ring-bound notebooks. She tried to organize by relevance, but snooping wasn’t her thing. Watch out, middle-stack-important-assignment. You're toast.

“How long have you had this pencil case.”  
“Kjelle!”   
“I want one.”  
“No you don’t,” Severa said, plonking down the food on the table. “What is this one here, soup?”   
“Yeah. I got a bunch of stuff. We’ll have leftovers for days. Don’t eat the prawn rice though, it’s-”   
“Your favourite, got it.” 

Severa settled the soaked notebook aside, sighing as she layers it between other, heavier books. Psych texts were real doorstoppers. Maybe the layered paper towel and notes had a chance. After she sorted her stuff out. _Ugh._ It’s the 21st century. Why even have paper handouts. 

“What took you so long?”   
“Laundry,” Kjelle said, and kicked her rucksack beneath the table, “Mmm! Hey, you have to try this.”   
“What is it?”   
“Black bean sauce on beef.”   
“Hah.”   
Severa took a forkful and ate it passively, leaning on the table edge as she batted Kjelle’s hand away so she could eat more of it. Kjelle let her have it, and just dug out something fried to chow down.  
“You really like that, huh?” Kjelle noted.   
Severa snorted, gesturing with her fork.  
“Personal space, Kjelle.” 

Kjelle took another glance outside. The red sky hadn’t waned, and the colour was only getting deeper. The grass looked malevolent, sickly, like the moon was dripping blood.   
“Wow. Good thing we’re not outside.”

“Red sky at night is good,” Severa said. She allowed herself to lean against Kjelle’s solid shoulder. Kjelle gave her a glance, but didn’t comment on it. 

“How so?” Kjelle said.  
“Shepherd’s delight. Clear skies. _Duh,_ it means the weather’s going to be clear tomorrow.”   
Kjelle elbowed her, not hard, and scooched over to the windowsill to relax against it. Severa pouted at the lack, but managed just fine without the support. Kjelle was home, anyway, so it was fine. 

Kjelle hummed to show she’d heard, gazing contemplatively into the middle distance.   
“Real night for a horror story,” she said.   
“Now? You’re doing this now?” Severa drawled, “Like, did it have to be today?”   
Kjelle grinned and glanced out at the darkness. The trees ringing the lawn outside always had strange shadows. Just like Severa to pick a ground-floor room in The World’s Most Haunted Quad. Just like Kjelle to follow her into it. 

“You think these monster masks down in the psych lab are doing anything on a weird night like this? Yikes. Just imagine. Bet they’re glowing right now.”  
 _”Kjelle!”_  
Kjelle shrugged and pulled the curtain shut.


	4. Chapter 4

When the moon rose it was yellow, sliced down to a sliver. It moved sluggishly, as though time had stopped. It didn’t shed much light on the lawn. A shadow flitted from tree to tree around the outer rim of the grass, pausing to regard the light in the window and the shade behind it. Somebody big. Somebody... Powerful.

They adjusted their mask, crossing the quad unseen at speed. When they reached the buildings they tested the handle and spent five minutes jimmying the lock with a knife. It clicked, something snapped, and an inhuman language rasped from their lips. 

Their cloak hid the shape of them, the dragging tail that scraped a long scratch down the plastic hallway tile. It took a left down the hallway, went upstairs into the gallery and along the long hall to the end.

“Psychology & Philosophy, M. Cavalier, C. B. Prince, U. Wolff, S. Perec” was written on the sign. They put up a clawed hand and scraped a line through Perec’s name. 

Another lock. They knew how to do it now. They picked at the lock, satisfied as it broke off and pieces of metal fell to the floor. It opened inwards, and creaked like an old soul at the pressure of a hand. 

The masks on the stands were glowing faintly, iridescent blue and glittering silver that luminesced without moonlight. The figure rose their claw and hummed a vibration in their throat. 

All at once the masks angled as if to view it. All but one, which rattled on the stand. The figure waited, the hum going away slowly to quiet. The mask began to glow, to match the rest. Downstairs, the door sounded again, with the clatter of booted feet and the loud, booming voice of a campus cop.

The figure lightly took the mask from the stand and tilted it to look it in the gaps where eyes would see. Finding what it needed to find, the figure then broke the mask down the middle cleanly. A large scarab-shaped beetle crawled out from the mask’s innards and ran over the back of the figure’s hand. It pitter-patted over the back of the figure’s glove, trundling with purpose over the leather as the figure tilted to look at it. Moving backwards up the figure’s arm, it found the short gap between sleeve and glove, and then burrowed seamlessly into it leaving no blood or mark. After a moment, the lump under the flesh that betrayed its passing sank and vanished. 

The campus cop reached the second floor, shone his torch down the hallway and lit up the broken lock. The masks that were illuminated by the electric light stopped glowing, and the figure froze. Slowly, it put the pieces of the mask away somewhere underneath their cloak.

“You!”

The figure moved faster than a blink of an eye, leaping toward the window and landing half-way up the frame, perched there like a bat. Then as a kind of denouement to the whole affair it kicked out at the window, cracking it until it shattered. It swung through the gap, feet-first, and landed on the ground outside with a thud and a nasty, wet sound like a broken branch.

When the cop shone his torch from the window, all he could see was a splash of blood that was black and opaque in the dark, smeared like something dragged that went into the shade of the trees that lined the quad. 

He knew that the masks were something bad from the start. He took the radio from his belt to report the break-in, and gazed warily at the smashed-open window. Explaining it wouldn’t come easy.


	5. Chapter 5

“You hear that?” Kjelle said, pausing mid-bite.  
“What?”  
“Shush. Listen.”

Silence and stillness held them for a minute. Then Kjelle shook her head, another forkful of food going into her mouth.  
“I was probably just imagining something.”  
“Are you fucking with me?”  
“No, no. No reason to. You freak yourself out. You don’t need me for that.” 

Severa fizzed angrily into her food, going over to the window and drawing the curtain back.   
“There’s nothing here- Fuck!”

A pair of bright and shining eyes gazed back at her through the lit up glare on the window, large and round with black pupils and iris. It pressed long, slim fingers against the glass, all other detail obscured by the light from the room inside and Severa’s reflection. She screeched and slammed her open palm on the window as Kjelle laughed. Despite the bonk on the glass, it didn’t leave. 

“What the fuck are you? Get lost! Go straight to hell!”   
“What is it?” Kjelle asked, unperturbed. 

“A trash bandit! Roadkill that doesn’t know it’s dead! A bullshit animal!”  
Severa slapped the window again. The hand on the other side of the glass mirrored her soundlessly, the long and shapeless body of it visible by how the gesture made it tilt against the glass. It smiled, a section of the body dropping open to reveal a mouth crowded with flat and irregularly aligned human teeth. 

“Ugh! Oh my god!”   
“Severa,” Kjelle said, laying a hand on her head, not even bothering to glance at what was outside the window, “It’s just a raccoon.” 

The creature turned around, standing up to full height and limping away.  
“That’s not a raccoon,” Severa said.  
“Severa. Hey Severa. Look at me.” 

Kjelle gently rotated Severa by turning her head under her hand.   
“Shut the curtains.”   
“But-”

Severa shook her head and glanced back out of the window. A small furry shape was scooting around the quad in the moonlit shade of a tree. It was raccoon sized. It didn't make her feel any better.   
“Yeah, okay,” she said, “Sure. Fine.”   
“It can’t hurt you, it’s just a little goblin,” Kjelle said, “A tiny dude-”  
“Kjelle-”   
“And it probably smelled all of our chinese food.” 

Severa drew the curtain closed, moving up close to Kjelle as she retrieved something sweet to salve her nerves.  
“It can’t hurt you, Sev,” Kjelle said, lifting her arm so that Severa could tuck herself beneath it.   
“Shut up,” Severa said. When she closed her eyes, all she saw were those teeth.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italy is in Valm, don't worry about it.

Three days later, having waited for the wet notebook to dry and for the coffee-stained pages to uncrease, Severa opened the notebook to check the damage, and the card dropped out of the centre crease to bounce off her foot. 

Severa pinned up the business card on her cork board above her desk, next to the scatter of dorky friend photographs, a list of academic websites, school schedule, and her guilty secret - a picture of her middle school soccer team. She’d had a crush on the centre-forward, Lucina Lowell, which had been exacerbated by how consistently kind Lucina had been to her, even when she hadn’t any need to be. The Lowells had moved away just before high school, and Severa (and pretty much everybody else that knew them, as she’d learned later) had lost contact. It was like Lucina’s whole family had vanished. Severa was doing her best to be totally over it, but even now, she still wondered sometimes where they’d gone. 

Making friends was never really Severa’s forte, but she’d been able to sit nearby at lunch and get absorbed into the group that clustered around Lucina. It wasn’t even difficult for those friends to become her friends. Severa was pretty sure that no matter where she was, Lucina had more friends than her. All the people she knew also knew Lucina once, and just hung around afterwards. It was pretty sad, in retrospect.

Severa shook her head to get the thought out, and got on with her work. Professor Cavalier was a stickler for essays, but had a lot of incentives for early work handed in. Severa’d managed a couple extra credits already last term. On a whim, she put down her pen and picked up her phone. 

The phone line crackled with static for a few seconds before connecting to a line. Despite how long it rang, it didn’t go to hold, and Severa was at the point of hanging up when the line finally connected.  
“Hello?” the voice on the other end was an adult; a woman, and seemed out of breath. She didn't introduce herself. Severa almost snorted. This was so unprofessional. Not that she’d mind, but it wouldn’t make any kind of good reference, and she’d probably be paid under the table, if she was paid at all. Time to sound as competent as all hell. She’d figure out the situation later. 

“Hello?” Severa replied, “Hi. My name is Severa Tiamo, and I'm calling about the personal assistant position? I have your card.”   
There was a scrabble and a click, and a second voice came on the line.   
“Hello,” a pleasingly dulcet female voice answered, “My secretary put you through to me. You’re calling about the job? I’ll need your name for our files. When would you be ready for an interview?”   
“Severa Tiamo,” she repeated, “That’s T-i-a-m-o, one word, like the Italian-”   
“Yes,” the woman on the other end of the line said, the syllable elocuted roundly like she was tasting it, “Excuse me a moment.”   
The phone crackled.   
Severa waited for the inevitable hold music that never came. The person on the other end was covering the phone’s receiver with their hand, speaking in a language that sounded like nothing she’d ever heard. Messed-up old English, maybe, with an odd singsong lilt, muffled by a palm. And then her name. 

“Thank you,” the woman said, putting the receiver back up to her ear, “Of course, yes. When are you free for an interview?”  
Severa eyed the schedule on the wall.   
“All this week, before five,” she said, “I’m a student at Halidom U, it’s how I found your card. But tomorrow is going to be completely free.”


	7. Chapter 7

The rain in the early morning fell in specks and spots, a sudden sharp shower that lasted barely long enough to matter. The grass was yellow, and ached for it. On the cropped lawns of the dorm’s inner quad, paper fast food wrappers and cast-off snack bar plastic drummed irregular impacts, folding and tearing from the wet. 

Severa was half asleep when the rain came down. Her window was partially open, and Kjelle had just left for a morning class, slamming the door behind her without a second thought. The rain hung in the hot air, making it feel thick and binding.

“Gross,” Severa said, woke by the noise. She hated feeling sticky.   
It was the day of the interview at least, so it was a reason to get up. One combination of clothes turned to two, to five to eight. She didn’t know why it felt like it mattered that much. Eventually, she settled on one she thought was best. 

Severa arrived at the cafe at a few minutes to ten and went up to get a drink from the counter. The sidewalk had been covered over with puddles that hadn’t yet evaporated by the strong mid-morning sun. It was an area of the university she’d not been in before, the buildings old and covered with growth. Windows were partially covered with ivy, the plant beds kindly overgrown. Even the cafe was difficult to distinguish at first glance - a comfortable little gazebo shape drawn in red brick, enclosed and hidden under old growth oaks. 

In the cafe, Severa took a breath to relax. It was just like any other coffee house. A blue haired boy with his arm in a sling was sipping on Boba tea in the corner, deeply focused on his book with earbuds in. Over by the window a motorcyclist in full riding leathers was delicately sipping from a teacup, the dark length of her hair gleaming in the sunlight. One of Kjelle’s sports professors had a foot up on the chair, revealing a long, fuzzy leg and the underside of a military-grade boot. 

The person behind the counter was golden-haired and distracted, already dealing with other customers. Severa joined the line behind somebody's grandma and checked her phone for the time. She was early. Good. 

Older couples were enjoying each other’s company while they hid from the heat of the day, the few young people lost in work or quiet conversation. It was peaceful and warm, but not hot. Severa hoped it bode well for her chances. 

Behind the counter, a blonde man with a beard and his hair in a bun was mixing several different syrups into one cup with a wry twist to his mouth, nodding at somebody behind the queue. Special order, maybe. It was all a far cry from the red skies and the whiskery grey thing that had opened a mouth like a horror show at a country fair. The line moved up. One honey and chocolate chip muffin for her nerves, and a tall cup of mocha coffee, to help her personality along. 

The music was barely audible, but seemed like the usual indie trash that Severa could tolerate. She sat down facing the door and got out her notebook to prepare. There really wasn’t much to go on, but she went back over her skills. 

She was halfway down her cup when a green-haired woman came in through the doors. She was short and neat and and dressed warmly for the weather outside, but when she shook Severa’s hand her touch was cool and firm. 

“Miss Tiamo?” she said, with that unmistakable rich timbre of her voice from the phone call, “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Ms. Pendragon, from the Archives.”


	8. Chapter 8

The woman wasn’t much older than she was, and although Severa wasn’t the tallest, she had a good few inches over Ms.Pendragon. After the customary introductions and small talk, she sat at the table. The bearded barista brought over a drink in a tall transparent cup; pink and delicious-smelling, laden down with cream, boba pearls and broken ice. 

“It’s a warm day,” she said, with comfortable gratuity, “We can be casual.”   
Severa patted the closed cover of her notebook. She was ready. Born ready. So ready. Ready now and ready later. That much ready. Ready t-  
Ms. Pendragon chuckled. “So, do you do any sports?”  
Severa’s eyebrows rose.  
“I mean, I run on weekends and my housemate ropes me into doing other stuff with her too. Rock climbing and horse-riding... Her mom’s family has a ranch out east. Um, and I used to fence, but I had to stop doing it.”

Behind them the barista marked a military discount. The blue-haired boy rejoined the queue for a refill. A shadow passed over the sun, making the cafe look cold. 

“Oh, what a shame,” she said, “Do you remember what division you were in?”   
Severa smiled nervously.  
“Uh, Division 2, but then I had a lot of classwork and my mom pulled me out of it. I’d have liked to keep going, you know?”

Ms. Pendragon didn’t have to know about her mom being ill, or what it did for their finances and her studies. But why lead with sport? She’d already told her on the phone she wasn’t a sport major, and she’d just handed her whole story across the table. 

“And what’s your major?” Ms. Pendragon asked. She seemed interested, but when Severa started to talk, she leaned back in her seat. Despite the air conditioning, she seemed sleepy, sipping her drink. 

“Psychology,” Severa said, “I mean, I’m going to confirm it later this year. I’m taking classes in other things though... I like biology and history, and I’ve got high marks in math.” 

“History, yes,” Ms. Pendragon said, “Very good.”   
Severa smiled.   
“You said you volunteered at the library?”   
“Oh! Yeah. Last summer break. You can check my reference with Genny Perec. She was my supervisory librarian.”   
“I might,” Ms. Pendragon said playfully, “I might not.” 

Severa checked her notes, nervous.   
“And, uh, I’ve tried to keep my grades high across all my subjects of interest,” she says, trying to shake off the weird vibe. Just nerves.  
“I covered the uh, first Ylisse-Plegian war and we dipped into the Valm rebellions that led to the assassination of Duke Mercutio. I’m still writing essays about the knock-on effects-”

She looked up. Ms. Pendragon was watching her with an expression that was calm but attentive, the sweet and sleepy droop of her eyes gone in favour of an eerie clarity. She moved forward to lean on the table. 

“-So, uh, if you need anything in particular covered, I can take the time to read up on it, I’m good at that kinda thing.”  
Ms. Pendragon nodded slowly. She blinked, and the sleepy gaze re-asserted itself. 

“Very good,” she said, “I like the breadth of your studies. Do you have any questions?”

Severa realized this was the end of the interview. It felt incomplete, but after all of the weirdness of yesterday she was frankly glad that it was over. She stacked papers to put them away and have more time to think.  
“Do you have an idea of what hours I’ll be working?” Severa asked, “And if there’s a uniform requirement or dress code?” 

“I can adjust to your schedule. Other than that, just flat shoes. Personal expression is welcomed at the library."   
Ms. Pendragon beamed at Severa. Severa's smile felt fake, but she tried. 

When Ms. Pendragon shook Severa’s hand, she said she’d call within a few days. She stood, brushed off her skirt, and left, drink in hand. She paused at the window, leaving a book on the counter.

Severa sipped her half forgotten cup and messed with her phone to relax. Kjelle had texted her a picture, but Severa gave it a minimum of attention in favour of tapping out an indignant message about how weird everything had been. After a few more moments of thought, she finally complimented Kjelle's LARP muffins. Despite the setbacks, she'd really been making strides lately. They were only a little burnt-looking. 

As Ms. Pendragon exited the door, the boy sitting a few tables away put down his book and went out of the door, turning to follow her down the avenue.


	9. Chapter 9

The coffee shop was quiet. Too quiet, after they’d finished talking. The lo-fi indie track had simmered down to a vague, unimpressive guitar riff that didn’t seem to end. The boy with the earbuds had a smooth, silent gait, with no sound of the impact of his shoes on the tile. Severa found herself worried about her potential boss. Sure, she was just probably scared over nothing, but the single-minded focus with which he moved just didn’t look normal. He didn’t even stop to check if he’d forgotten anything. 

Severa took a quick snap of her own clothes, and texted the image back to Kjelle with a request to call the police if she didn’t return home. Kjelle’s muffins would have to wait. Severa tipped back the drink into her mouth and threw her bag over her shoulder, looking back at the table he’d been on. A dusty old book was just waiting there, the shape of fingerprints in dust on the cover where he’d picked it up and held it. She grabbed it in a handkerchief, stuffing it in her own bag. 

Severa dropped a five dollar note to tip whoever was going to clean her table, not bothering about change. Her phone buzzed with a phone call, came up with a voicemail, and chimed with two texts. She mumbled a cuss under her breath, angling sideways to get around the next person through the door. Outside, a few metres away, Ms. Pendragon was navigating aimlessly down the street. She hopped off the curb with a spring in her step as she crossed the road. She looked almost careless, enjoying the sun and the warmth of the day.

Severa picked up her pace and grabbed her bag. The sun was hot and she hadn’t brought a hat. She could feel sweat down her back from the effort, beading on her forehead. She didn’t even have time to curse.

The boy was walking at a steady pace behind Ms Pendragon, ignoring the cars in the road as she stepped out to cross the lanes. He strode confidently, ignoring the car that squealed to a stop just inches from his ankles. The driver leaned on the horn and swore, but the boy ignored him and continued onwards, catching the little park gate in a fist before it swung closed. 

The park was laid out with patches of greenery encircled by roads, old trees providing the paths with shade and a green pool of water supposed to be beautiful. The summer heat had sunk the water level and an algae bloom was beginning to spread across the surface. Behind the pond there was a fountain, still turned on despite the heatwave and shaded by a pair of weeping willows. At the edges of the park, the metal fences were masked with woods and low bushes - evergreens that grew fast, yellow tipped by the sun. Somebody in a day-glo safety jacket was cutting the new growth with a hedge trimmer and noise-cancelling ear covers, focused on what they were doing. 

Severa crossed the road in the aftermath, her legs feeling weak and the bump of her bag aching as it thumped into her thigh. It was dumb to be afraid of somebody who might just be going home the same way. The gate swung closed with a clang and Severa pushed it open, kicking it wider with a foot. Ms. Pendragon crossed the lawns, turning down left to move towards the pool.

The boy was following the curve of the tarmac path, his head turned to focus in the direction of Ms. Pendragon. Severa groped in her bag for something solid and heavy. Her fingers found the handle end of a hairbrush. He moved so elegantly that for moments, it was like his arm wasn’t broken at all.


	10. Chapter 10

It all happened fast. Severa dashed to catch up as he passed a tree, tucking her head and raising her shoulder as she tackled him. It was only natural. She brought the end of the hairbrush up as his arm came down, and something cracked. He didn’t cry out, just the noisy exhale of somebody used to pain. He clattered into the tree trunk behind him, hitting the side of his head against the bark. It scraped a fresh red mark just above his eyebrow, which began to bleed. 

Severa’s pulse drummed in her head, unthinking. As the boy started to stand up, she moved in quickly, grabbing his free arm and forcing him up against the tree. With an arm across his throat, he wasn't going anywhere.  
“Hey, Punk! what's the big idea?” she yelled.

Up close he wasn't anything like intimidating. One earbud hanging loose that was previously in his ear, glasses that were sliding down his nose, grey suit pants and an off-blue shirt that looked a little too big. Blood was trickling down through his eyebrow, fresh and red and bright. Whatever else he was, he was making a soft little noise in the back of his throat. 

“Talk!”   
He squirmed instead, trying to inch out of her grip. She leaned in as close as she could, with the sour tang of teen-boy body spray rank in her nose.  
“Listen,” Severa said, elocuting every syllable, “You’re not leaving until you tell me why you’re following that woman.”   
“Y-you’re hurting me.”

She was leaning on his arm - the arm that had snapped.   
“Oh god,” Severa said, “I’m so sorry, geez, what am I doing?”  
“No idea,” he said, a pained little laugh trickling through his lips, “Can you let me go?”   
Severa took a step back.   
She’d not met anybody under the age of thirty who wore a tie on purpose without leaving it loose, and he adjusted it straight, smoothing it down while his other arm hung at an awkward angle. Quickly, she patted her pockets down for a handkerchief, and used it to dab at the cut on his forehead. It was smaller than she’d thought, but then again, Kjelle had taught her that facial wounds bled a lot. She did always go headfirst into things. 

She got her sweater out of her bag, making a sling out of it. They moved to a park bench together, sitting down as she adjusted the length of it. The boy had a grey, sweaty kind of look to him. Severa hoped he wasn’t going into shock.   
“Are you okay?” Severa asked.  
He nodded warily, edging down the bench a little to find some room away from her.  
“I’m not going to run...” he said, “Feel... kind of sick. It’ll pass. I think it’s just the blood.”   
Severa passed him some water. Instead of drinking it, he held it first, looking at the park scenery like it was the first time. Ms Pendragon was sitting by the fountain, dropping small change into it. 

“I’m sorry for freaking out,” Severa said, “And hurting you like that.”   
The boy just gave her a grin.  
“I’ll live,” he said, “I don’t think that was smart of me either.”

He brought the water bottle up to his mouth, gulping down a mouthful of cold water and twitching through a shiver. The shake jolted his arm on the way.  
“Ow,” he said.   
“So what do you want with Ms Pendragon?” Severa asked. She fought the urge to lean over and dab at his forehead again. The cut had bled some more.   
"Oh,” the boy said, “She’s my aunt.”


	11. Chapter 11

“I wanted to catch up to her-”  
“Aunt.”  
“I know,” he said, with a casual shrug. The movement made him wince. “She’s-   
“Your aunt?”  
“And my boss.”  
“Oh, god!” Severa swore, “Fuck-”  
“I’m sorry?”

“You were behind me during my interview! I saw you when I sat down-”  
“Huh,” he said. He pushed his glasses back up his nose.   
“I’m never getting this job...” Severa moaned, head in her hands. The boy picked at the sweater-made-sling she’d tied around his broken arm.   
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, “I’m not-”  
“No, it would be weird, right?” Severa said, “We’re just-”  
Severa’s phone rang, and she stood up awkwardly, dropping her bag on the bench next to him.   
“Sorry, I’ve got to take this-”  
“Yeah.”

“You’re alive, right,” Kjelle’s voice said, warm and confident, “because if you aren’t, I’m going to kill you.”   
“Kjelle, I’m so sorry-”  
“Whole-wheat murder, Severa Tiamo. I’m coming for you. What the fuck happened?”   
“I just-”  
“Lost your brain, huh? Did you see a girl you thought looked like her again?" 

Severa flushed red. The less said about that, the better. She wasn’t _pining,_ only idiots did that.   
"No-"   
"Because I told you-"   
"I'm safe, okay? God! I just saw something weird and knew I had to act!"

The boy on the bench looked up.  
"Er, is that m-"  
Severa shushed him, putting out a hand to ask for quiet.

"Another raccoon? What did it do, Severa, call up the Khan of Regina Ferox?"   
"H-hey," Severa said, her voice going quiet, "I'm okay. I was going to call you soon, I swear! I was just helping this guy after he broke his arm. And that wasn't a raccoon. Raccoons aren't that big." 

The boy raised his unbroken arm like he was in class, bent at the elbow.  
"What kind of-"   
Severa ignored him, flapping her hand. Boys! Just because she broke his arm, it didn't mean he could interrupt her conversation whenever. Distantly, the hedge-trimmer finished his job and picked up his equipment, navigating out of the park past them. 

"Maybe it was fat," Kjelle said, "I hope your guy gets better soon, or whatever. Text me next time, okay? And uh. Thanks for looking at the cupcakes."   
"They look fine," Severa drawled. "You just need to frost them. You can use the stuff in my cupboard." 

"Thanks babe. Premade?"   
“Ugh,” Severa said. She could hear the wink in Kjelle’s voice.   
“Or the icing sugar?”  
“No, premade is the best option right now. Just remember to put it in the fridge after. It's not shelf stable when it's opened. You did great, okay? I gotta go to help this guy. Bye!" 

"What about the-" Kjelle said, before Severa ended the call and the line went dead. It was okay. Severa could text her more details later. The boy was looking up at her when she finished, and Severa avoided his gaze for another minute to check her phone. 60% battery left. Probably good for the day. 

"Hey," he said, "I'm sorry I caused a problem."   
"Eh," Severa said, " don't worry about it."   
She sat down next to him again and started rummaging through her bag. He had her water bottle already, so finding what she was looking for was remarkably painless. 

"So do you have any allergies?"  
"No-"  
"Are you taking any other stuff?"  
"I don't under-"  
"I have painkillers in my bag you dork, I don't want to accidentally kill you."   
She brought out a small cardboard box and shook it. His mouth popped open as he realized what she meant.   
"Oh. Not really."   
"Here then. It's only over the counter stuff, but my friends have periods and I like to be prepared. Your arm probably hurts, right?"

"Huh?" He said, "Oh, yeah, it does. I was just kind of dealing with it."   
He poked at his arm through the sling, flinching at the contact.  
"Oof."  
"Smart. Here you go." 

The boy received the pain medication and tipped a couple into his hand. Severa grabbed the packet out of his hand as he fumbled it. He had all the coordination of a distracted toddler in a candy aisle.   
"Don't dry swallow! I gave you water!" 

He took a nervous glug and tipped his head back to get them down his throat. He already looked less grey. That was progress, right. Severa tucked the box away into her bag, writing up her contact details so he could have them in case he needed help. You had to own up when you broke somebody’s arm, right? He might lose them, but she could always glue it to his hand or tuck it into his sling or something like that. She put her hairbrush at the bottom of her bag. No more violence for that thing today. 

"Weird way to meet a coworker," he said.  
"What?"  
"I'm going to vouch for you,” he said, with a doofy clark kent grin. When he smiled, his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. Severa pulled a face at him.

“You can’t be serious.”  
“I always forget things a lot... I’m uh, not good at handling things, and you seem really well prepared! I'm sure my aunt would love to have you."   
"But I broke your arm-"   
"I'll heal up."   
He offered his uninjured arm, a hand to shake. Weird, nerdy, grandma manners again. Severa glanced down at his outstretched hand and considered it.   
"I'm Arthur. Arthur Pendragon."   
Severa took it, giving it a firm shake.  
"Severa Tiamo. Nice to meet you."


End file.
